


That Time Robin Got Kidnapped

by MySecretAccount



Category: Robin (Comics), Super Sons (Comics), Superboy (Comics)
Genre: Fear, Just let the supersons fight real rogues you cowards, Kidnapping, they can handle themselves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:34:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21843019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MySecretAccount/pseuds/MySecretAccount
Summary: Damian Wayne has a complicated relationship with Jon Kent, so how is Jon meant to react when Damian goes missing? And how are Clark and Bruce meant to react? And who took Damian? And how will this affect the super sons moving forward?
Comments: 2
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

“That was awesome! did you see that guys face?” Jon flew around so that he was in front of Damian, who had been trying to make his way to the edge of the roof.  
“Of course I saw his face, I was right in front of him.” Damian pulled out his grappling hook and sidestepped Jon. “But now I merely wish to see the back of my eyelids.”  
While Damian’ voice was usually apathetic or accusatory, Jon thought he heard an edge to his tone; one that, had he not known better, Jon would’ve called fear.  
“Uh, that’s totally cool,” there goes any plans for late night ice cream. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow though, right?”  
“Yes.” Damian’s statement was final as he leapt from the building, and disappeared into the night. 

Damian was upset. But why was he upset if the mission was a success? That’s simple. The mission was a success…  
Because of Jon.  
Damian’s feelings towards Jon were complicated and confusing.  
He saw Jon as a rival, someone who could replace him.  
He saw Jon as a threat, a walking Nuke that would blow if he was too scared, hurt, or stressed.  
He saw Jon as a partner, someone he could team up with to solve a problem or take out a rogue.  
He saw Jon as a … friend, someone he could talk to, and spend time with, without having to be a Wayne, or an Al Ghul, or even a Robin. He could just be Damian.  
Lost in thought, he made his way through Gotham on autopilot. being trained in acrobatics from the day he could walk meant that swing on a grappling hook and leap from building to building all while exploring his inner thoughts and feelings.  
In other words, he was distracted.  
He felt the stinging in his neck, and was pulled from his thoughts with barely enough time to land on a rooftop rather than pavement, before his vision blurred and went dark. 

Damian hadn’t been choppered into school today. But that was okay, Jon wasn’t worried about that. Dami usually took at least one day off a week to work with Bruce or the Titans. What wasn’t normal, what worried Jon, was that he had broken his promise.  
The moment the lunch bell rang Jon shot out of the school, like a bat out of hell. Within 32 seconds he was in the Fortress of Attitude. In the next 4 he was on Robin’s comm.  
“Hey Robin, it’s me, where’re you at right now?” Silence.  
“Buddy?” Silence.  
“You’re kind of freaking me out here?” Silence.  
“Uh, if you don’t reply in the next minute I’m gonna track you.” Silence.  
10 seconds.  
30 seconds.  
50 seconds.  
1 minute.  
Silence.  
Jon pushed the tracker button at super speed. The two things he saw made his heart stop dead.  
Location:  
16 Wharf st. Warehouse- abandoned.  
Vitals:  
Current- Alive; unconscious; stable.  
Past 12 hours- Alive; un/conscious; distressed.


	2. Damian was alone in the dark.

Damian knew something was wrong before he was fully conscious. This was because waking up was hard. Damian had been intensively trained by both assassins and Batman, waking up quickly was a basic instinct as common as breathing. So, when he tried to open his eyes and found the action to be comparable to lifting a metric tonne of concrete, and found the act of forming cohesive thoughts comparable to wading through thickened clay, he knew something was wrong.  
Based on the mental fog and blurred vision, once he had finally got his eyes open, Damian was certain he had been drugged, likely by some kind of barbiturate. As he tried to move he, rather unsurprisingly at this point, found his arms and legs to be bound. Also unsurprisingly, he found himself to be in some kind of warehouse. The pole he was tied to was rusty and he mentally thanked Alfred for keeping him up to date with his tetanus booster while he felt both the rope and the cracked metal of the pole cut into him.  
“Don’t struggle Robin, they’ll be here to save you soon.” The voice that mocked him was gravelly, eerie and familiar. A voice that managed to send a jolt of fear through him.  
“Scarecrow.” Robin ceased his struggle upon conceding to the thickness of the rope and the strength of the pole. He had also realised that he had been searched and any of the knives he kept hidden for situations like this had been removed. “Kidnapping isn’t your usual M.O, running out of ideas in that hollow head of yours?”  
“Taunts will get you nowhere little bird,” Scarecrow rested the tip of his scythe underneath Damian’s chin to lift his head up. “All you can do now is wait here for your super pal to try and save you while I listen to the symphony of your screams.”  
Crane pulled a syringe from within his cloak. Like any sane doctor would he wiped the inside of Damian’s elbow with an alcohol wipe, “this might pinch a little.” Like any insane doctor he injected Robin with fear toxin. “Sweet dreams.” He crooned as he left Robin to deal with his nightmares. 

Superboy had never been in this situation before. While Jonathan Kent was not nearly as intelligent as Damian Wayne, he wasn’t stupid.  
Unconscious + Distressed + Abandoned Warehouse = Kidnapped.  
But what were you supposed to do when your best friend, your partner, was kidnapped and you were a new superhero. Superheroes were supposed to save people, but the stakes had never been this high, the issue hadn’t been this close to home. What if he made a mistake, like he almost always did, what if he hurt Damian? Should he wait to notify his dad, or Batman? Should he move fast and rush in just incase whoever had taken Damian decided it was murder time? Should he try and figure out who had taken Damian?  
He was pulled from his internal debate by a long beep followed by an update to Damian’s vitals.  
Alive-conscious-extremely distressed.  
Heart Rate- dangerously high.  
Well that settled things, Jon was going to help his friend. 

Damian was alone in the dark.  
He couldn't move. Two figures melted from the darkness. His mother. His grandfather. Both of them wielded an expression of disappointment.  
“Oh Damian,” his mother drew her sword, “you are a mistake.”  
“But, you planned me. You chose my father, you chose me!” Damian’s own voice was panicked and distraught, clinging to logic and reasoning in defence of his insecurities.  
“We chose your father, we did not choose you.” His grandfather stepped forward, his face a blank canvas onto which Damian projected his innermost fears. “I had expected an heir to my league and what I got was an unworthy disappointment.”  
Their faces were cast in shadows as they moved forward with an inhuman speeding swung their swords at Damian’s head. He screamed.

Damian was alone in the dark.  
He was paralysed by fear.  
Out of the darkness stepped Batman and Bruce Wayne.  
“Robin,” his voice was dark and gravelly, his features sharp and angry, “how could you let yourself get captured? You've failed me.”  
“Damian,” his voice was soft and sad, he was disappointed, “you’ve hurt your family, you push your brothers and sisters away, you push your friends away, you’ve hurt me.”  
“I don’t need you anymore.” The two figures folded into one. “We don’t want you anymore.” They disappeared into the darkness and abandoned him.  
“No!” Damian’s scream was shrill and helpless, it was unnatural even to his own ears. “No! I can be better! I’m sorry! I’ll try harder!” He pulled at the ropes tying his hands, the metal cut into his skin, and tears stained his cheeks. “Please, don’t leave me…” 

Damian was in a warehouse.  
He was tied to a pole.  
He was scared.  
He was terrified.  
He blinked away the tears blurring his vision and immediately regretted it.  
Seven feet in front of him he faced his worst fear.  
Jon Kent, Superboy, was fighting Scarecrow, and he was winning.


	3. Where is the antidote?

Within two minutes Jon had decided that despite what faced him he was going to enter the warehouse and leave with his friend. Within three minutes he had arrived at the warehouse and flown directly through a second floor window.   
Like he had been taught he took in the surrounding area.   
The warehouse was rusting, large and dark which would make the fight a bit more difficult but also mean that destruction wouldn’t result in the loss of some fancy, city monument; despite having six floors there was a large empty space up through the centre, this gave him lots of flying space to utilise; the next thing that jumped out at him was Damian’s captor, Scarecrow- Jon knew about Scarecrow, Damian had told him all about the different types of fear gas, and fear toxin, and that one time he tried to make all of Gotham fearless. The only upside to a fight with scarecrow was that Jon wouldn't be affected by any of his toxins, and his crew were wearing gas masks.   
The downside to a fight with scarecrow was the last thing Jon took in.   
Damian. Damian would be affected by the toxin, and it was clear he already had been.   
Damian was bound tightly to a rusty pole at the edge of the atrium, he was bleeding but not to a deadly extent. What made Jon’s heart stop was the scream. It was a sharp sound that tore through him.   
“No! No! I can be better! I’m sorry! I’ll try harder!” Damian’s distress pulled Jon back into the real world.   
“Please, don’t leave me…” Immediately, and at super-speed, Jon flew around the outside of the warehouse disabling any of Scarecrow’s guards before turning, eyes blazing to face the man who had taken and tortured his best friend. 

Jonathan Kent smashed through a window and took out an entire squadron of armed guards within 7 seconds. Damian’s heart was beating unnaturally fast and blood rushed through his ears, washing out the sound of scarecrows goons hitting the floor. Jon turned to face Damian. His eyes were blazing. They were literally on fire, bright red flames spilling out like a devils cat eye. His face was furious and his actions efficient. Damian watched him fighting and he knew the truth.   
Damian Wayne was useless.   
Robin was useless.   
Jonathan Kent would join the titans. Jonathan Kent would take criminals to Arkham.   
“Please, I’m sorry, I’ll try harder, just don’t leave me out.” Damian’s words were quiet and desperate, whispered from a throat that was tired from screaming. 

“Let him go.” Jon’s voice was calm yet firm, in direct contrast to the fire in his eyes, it was the kind of calm that hid an unquantifiable level of furiousity.   
“Now why would I do that?” Scarecrow said as he reached into his cloak. “I need him, just like I need you.” He pulled out an atomiser and fear gas dispersed throughout the warehouse. 

There was nothing Jon could do as the chemical cloud surrounded him in artificially constructed fear. Despite his later hindsight he breathed in a gasp of shock, he could feel the toxin entering his lungs. Jon was 1/2 human, there was no telling how the toxin would affect him. he might only have a few seconds of clear thought before he was incapacitated by terror, like Damian.   
Damian.   
Immediately, instinctively, he fired his heat vision at the ropes that bound his best friend. Even if they were terrified, at least Damian wouldn't be trapped.   
All eyes were on Jon as the seconds ticked by.   
Yet Jon only felt a calm anger at the kidnapping and torture of his friend. Not a single ounce of fear or terror was felt as he took three confident steps towards scarecrow, ripped his scythe from his hands and pulled his arms behind his back.   
“I think I’m enough of a Kryptonian to be immune, I don’t usually Resort to torture, that’s Robin’s forte, but since he is so indisposed, I’m only going to ask once- where is the antidote?” Scarecrow said nothing, he simply tried to pull his arms out of Jon’s super grip. 

Damian watched from the floor of the warehouse. The scent of charred rope surrounded him, and filled his lungs, he felt suffocated. He saw Jon, who was usually so happy and kind, being the brutal and efficient rescuer. He saw Jon who was usually so happy and kind, taking on Damian’s role. He saw Jon making Robin redundant.   
And he felt afraid. And he felt useless. And he felt hopeless. And he gave up.   
He curled himself into a ball against a rusty beam, surrounded by charred rope. And Damian Wayne gave up trying. 

“I don’t have an antidote.” Scarecrow tried to twist away but Jon only gripped him tighter.   
“If you wanted me to be merciful you never should have touched my friend. Now, where is the antidote you keep for emergencies?” Jon’s eyes ignited again, red flames powered by solar radiation and rage threatening to burn his opponent in order to get what he wanted. Crane shrank away, head hanging in defeat.   
“In my cloak, it’s the blue vial.”   
Jon grabbed the vial and deposited Crane, tied up, with his unconscious goons.   
“Damian,” he approached his scared partner slowly, so he didn't spook him, “I have the antidote buddy.”   
Jon was scared despite not being affected by the toxin. He was scared because the feisty energetic Damian Wayne was in a catatonic state. He gently, carefully lifted Damian’s head and gave him the antidote. 

“Jon?” Damian’s voice was croaky and it was still one of the best sounds Jon had ever heard. “Where are we? What happened? Did you call Batman?”   
“Damian!” Jon wrapped him in a tight hug, while still being careful not to break any of his bones. “We’re in a warehouse, because Scarecrow kidnapped you, he dosed you with fear toxin, I’ve called Batman and my dad, what do you remember?” Jon was frantic and held Damian at arms length to inspect him for any serious damage.   
“I’m fine, I just…”   
“Robin!” Damian found himself wrapped in another embrace, this time from his father.   
“You alright son?” Superman’s voice was loud, and although reassuring, was rather overwhelming.   
“He took you to get to Jon, to get to us. I’ll take you back to the cave, Alfred’s gonna check you over.” His father helped him up and lead him out of the warehouse. Leaving Jon alone with his dad. 

“You did good son, why the long face?” Clark had always been able to tell when Jon was upset, his son had inherited his open personality.   
“I think I got a bit out of hand, and I- I know I didn't lose control but, I was worried about Damian, and I- I- I forced, I forced scarecrow to tell me where it- where the antidote was.” Jon stared down at his sneakers. “He was so scared dad. He was so alone, and fragile, and it made me so angry. I was so angry that he had been hurt, and he was scared dad, real scared.”   
“It’s okay son,” Clark was more reassuring himself at this point, “you’ll know how to control yourself next time, you wont get out of hand.”   
“I won’t let there be a next time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, let me know if you want this continued, otherwise I think this is probably the best place to leave it. Thanks for reading


End file.
